


Blizzaga

by GingerEl



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Canon-Typical Violence, First Kiss, Getting Together, Light Angst, Love Confessions, M/M, Minor Injuries, Pining, Snow, cuddling for warmth, magical mishaps
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-03
Updated: 2021-01-03
Packaged: 2021-03-13 16:16:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,691
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28531326
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GingerEl/pseuds/GingerEl
Summary: They had promised each other 'after' but after never seems to be coming; their road trip dragging on an on in an endless number of days.Ignis wakes comfortable.Not quite hotel bed after three straight weeks camping comfortable but something close. Somehow familiar while also absolutely foreign to him in every way.Ignis wakes hot.Which is peculiar, because when he blinks his eyes open he appears to be surrounded by ice.No - not ice. Snow.“Iggy?”Ignis pulls himself upright, realising the thing he was resting against was Gladio’s chest.He blushes, which doesn’t necessarily help with being overheated.Alternatively: A freak magical accident covers the Myrlwood in ice and snow, separating Gladio and Ignis from the others. The only thing they can do is stay warm - and maybe talk. Finally.
Relationships: Gladiolus Amicitia/Ignis Scientia
Comments: 20
Kudos: 62
Collections: FFXV Secret Santa 2020





	Blizzaga

**Author's Note:**

  * For [diefleder_tey](https://archiveofourown.org/users/diefleder_tey/gifts).



> Happy Belated Christmas diefleder_tey! I hope you enjoy, I tried to work in some of the more magical elements you mentioned and when I read about snuggling by a fire? I couldn't resist.

Sometimes Ignis wishes Noct knew how to say _no_.

Ignis spent many of his own teen years trying to gently encourage Noctis into being more open and giving with his people and it had never quite taken hold of the Prince until they’d gotten on the road.

Noctis had _always_ done charity work, but he’d been picky and reluctant to throw himself fully into things. Out here Noctis just says yes to _everything_ , no matter how small and _random_ the request might be: grab an abandoned tin of wax, gather five frogs from around a lake, climb a semi-active volcano for a photograph or deep dive into a murky woodland to gather up fireflies.

The Myrlwood is not Ignis’ _least_ favourite location they’ve encountered on their journey but he can’t honestly say he likes it. It’s humid enough his shirt sticks to his back and Prompto playfully complains about the weather messing up his hair. Gladio loses his jacket completely - for what good his usual outfit does anyway - and Ignis has to forcibly shift his eyes away from the Shield on more than one occasion throughout the day.

It’s been _complicated_ being on the road together.

They’d never really gotten started before it all went down; little more than shy flirtation and a mutual agreement that _yes_ they wanted more.

With the unspoken additional promise of _after_.

After they were back from the trip.

After Noct was married.

After everything was settled. 

Only then could the two of them do something, _become_ something.

But the trip seems never ending, the wedding a far off fantasy that only _may_ be rather than the single thing they’re working towards.

There’s a splash and -

“ _Gross_!” Prompto cries and Ignis turns to see him sunk half way up to his knee in one of the murky pools of water. Noct laughs, stepping around his best friend to scoop the firefly out of the air and into the jar Sania had provided.

Gladio strides over to their sharpshooter, offering him a hand and saving him from the water. Prompto comes free with a _pop_ as the suction breaks around his leg and the limb reappears, sopping wet and covered in mud. Prompto grimaces and gives his leg a shake, splattering the fallen leaves with brown flecks.

“That was the last one,” Noct says holding the jar up and peering at the small bug.

“Sania will be pleased,” Ignis says watching as Noct stores the jar using his magic, “Perhaps the delivery will wait until tomorrow.”

“Fishing?” Noct asks at once.

Gladio snorts and corrects, “ _Camping_.”

“But my boot!” Prompto yells with a laugh.

“Will dry out by the fire,” Ignis assures him.

The two youngest race off ahead, climbing back up the path leading away from clearing as dusk deepens towards true night. Gladio falls into step beside Ignis and they follow at a more sedate pace.

“Be lucky not to run into any daemons on the way back,” Gladio mumbles.

“The sun does seem to be setting earlier and earlier.”

Gladio nods and they continue the trudge up the hill, Prompto’s laughter pierces the quiet air.

“Iggy -”

“I wonder what the boys will want for dinner?” Ignis interrupts.

Ignis knows that tone, recognises that soft _Iggy_ and what Gladio means to do with it. Gladio is tired and frustrated, Ignis too, and Gladio just wants to _talk_. Ignis loves talking to Gladio, he always has, but when he starts in that soft way Ignis knows what could follow and knows that he’s not equipped to handle it. 

Not with how the ground beneath his feet is always moving and never steady.

Gladio sighs.

“Whatever you make will be amazing,” Gladio says, “Just like always.”

“Holy shi -”

Prompto’s shout cuts out under the sound of his pistol firing.

Noct cries, “Guys? A little help!”

As one he and Gladio take off running, the last part of the climb is steep and Ignis’ thighs are burning when they reach top, calling his daggers into his hands so he’s ready to join the fray.

They find the boys fighting apart from one another, Prompto firing into a half dozen glamhoth hopping around him and Noct fighting toe-to-toe with a Lich. Though, perhaps, toe-to-glowing green orb is a better way to describe it.

Gladio tears past him at full speed, rushing towards Noctis. Ignis makes to follow but Prompto suddenly cries out again, overwhelmed as he struggles to make distance between him and the little daemons he’s fighting. Ignis redirects to help him, trusting Noct to Gladio’s care.

The glamhoth go down easily, they’re annoying and energetic, generally a little troublesome for both Ignis and Prompto to get a solid hit on. The moment their weapons connect though they crumple into the ground, dissolving into the horrifying miasma that Ignis has grown accustomed to watching seep into the earth. 

They were helped, Ignis supposes, by the narrow area they found themselves in, the skinny pathway with high, rocky walls and tall trees on each side. Fighting here can often be cumbersome during battle but this one time it proves helpful in cutting their enemies down.

“Where are the guys?” Prompto pants, rushing to Ignis’ side.

They’re _gone_. Them and the Lich hidden from view, though when Ignis concentrates he thinks he can hear the sounds of fighting - the crystalline shatter of Noct’s warp, Gladio’s heavy grunt as he swings his broadsword.

“They’re following it towards the pond,” Prompto says and despite the fact he never _quite_ caught his breath he takes off sprinting, legs pounding against the ground as he heads back towards their friends as fast as he can. Ignis follows, catching up easily because of his long legs and even getting their first, rushing into the fray.

The space is _slightly_ wider here, but not by a lot - Gladio’s forced to fight defensively, providing Noct a safe space to recover after landing a warp-strike.

“They’re weak to ice!” Ignis shouts, dodging a projectile the daemon sends his way.

“Got it!” Noct calls back and Ignis rushes towards the sound of his voice, eager to provide additional protection while Noct prepares the spell.

It was a _bad move_ , Ignis ends up sliding past just as the Lich expels it’s noxious gas, horrid green vapour that prickles along Ignis’ skin and burns his lungs when he inhales. _Poison_ , his brain says, he’s poisoned. 

But he’s still on his feet.

Ignis clutches his daggers a little tighter and presses onward.

Gladio catches him by the shoulder and tugs Ignis bodily behind his form. Ignis blinks and one of Gladio’s Shields forms between them both and the fight.

“Iggy,” he says roughly, “I _ggy_.”

Ignis tries to respond but his mouth doesn’t work.

Ignis sees the flicker of neon green flames, hears the shatter of Noct’s magical vial and Prompto’s gun _exploding_ in the night air.

Then he blinks and he doesn’t see anything else at all.

-

Gladio manages to catch Iggy before he hits the ground, the chill of Noct’s blizzaga prickly but not painful as it explodes around him. That’s _strange_ but Gladio has more to worry about than the fat snowflakes obscuring his view when what view includes both the Lich crumpling under the force of the magic _and_ one of the trees and half the high boulders lining their pathway crashing down from one side towards his King.

“Noct!” he screams and Gladio _just_ gets a glimpse of Prompto’s hand fisting in the side of Noct’s jacket and tugging him - hopefully - free of falling rocks before his view is entirely blocked by the debris and _ice_.

Separating their party clean in two.

It takes a while for the noise to stop, the rocks to stop sliding and falling. Gladio has to drag him and Ignis back a little to avoid a few late tumblers, getting him and his - his _friend_ to safety.

“Gladio?” Prompto’s voice calls, audibly shaken, “You guys okay?”

Gladio glances down at Ignis, propped up against his knee where Gladio had dropped into a kneeling position. He’s _pretty_ sure the adviser got caught by the Lich’s poison so he summons both an antidote and a potion to be safe and cracks them both over Ignis. He doesn’t stir, but his breath is steady and even.

“We’re good,” he yells back, “Is Noct - ?”

“I’m fine,” Noct says, “Um - are you guys - is it snowing on your side too?”

 _Yes_.

Large snowflakes are drifting down from the canopy of leaves that covers them, settling thick and fast on the ground.

“Uh - how?” Gladio asks.

It’s not the _strangest_ thing that’s ever happened to them, sure, but it's the first time they’ve ever messed up the _weather_ . Normally Noct’s spells freeze, electrocute or burn the ground around them - and _them_ sometimes - but the effects last only moments.

Not _this_.

It’s like the pictures from classic Solstice stories, an image ripped right out from Niflheim.

“Iggy?” Noct asks, “I don’t really know, do you?”

“Iggy’s out - he’s fine, but he’s out.”

Prompto swears loudly.

“I think it was too much magic at once,” Noct says obviously guessing, “My ice hit their weird fire and it kind of _froze_ and then Prompto’s bullets hit it and it _exploded_.”

“Oops,” Prompto says, petering out into a nervous laugh.

“You guys need to get out of here,” Gladio says, “Quickly - go to the haven on the edge of the Vesperpool and set up camp. Me and Iggy won’t be able to get free until he’s awake _and_ the ice has disappeared.”

“Can’t you climb over?” Noct asks.

Gladio glances at the wall between them, the slick, shiny, sheer covering of ice. _Maybe_ they could climb it, at full health in the light of day but maybe they’d just slip, fall and break their necks.

“Not without light,” Gladio says, “Not with all the ice.”

Prompto swears again and Gladio almost laughs.

“I don’t want to leave,” Noct says and his voice has dropped a little so it’s hard to make out.

“You have to,” Gladio says. He clambers to his feet and swings Ignis up into his arms, one beneath his knees and the other supporting his back.

“What about you guys?” Prompto asks.

“There’s a haven here too, we’ll be safe.”

A little _cold_ perhaps, though Gladio can drag blankets from the armiger and leave the tent for the boys. They’ll be cold, but perfectly safe.

“We’ll come back as soon as it’s light out!” Prompto promises, “And if you still can’t climb out then we’ll go for help.”

“Go,” Gladio says, “Don’t fight anything you don’t have to - just run, straight back to the haven.”

“Be safe!” Prompto yells, then quieter, “Come on, Noct.”

Gladio turns and starts to trudge through the snow, carrying Ignis carefully in his arms.

First he needs fire and blankets to keep Iggy warm.

Then he just has to _wait_.

He’s good at waiting on Iggy, he’d do it forever.

-

Ignis wakes comfortable.

Not quite hotel-bed-after-three-straight-weeks-camping comfortable but something _close_. Somehow familiar while absolutely foreign to him in every way.

Ignis wakes _hot_.

Which is peculiar, because when he blinks his eyes open he appears to be surrounded by ice.

No - not ice. _Snow_.

“Iggy?”

Ignis pulls himself upright, realising the thing he was resting against was Gladio’s chest.

Gladio’s bare chest.

He blushes, which doesn’t necessarily help with being overheated.

Ignis looks around him, taking in the soft blanket spread across both their shoulders and the one folded double beneath them for comfort. Gladio’s thick arm is warm and steady around his waist where he was anchoring Ignis against him. Beyond that he can see that _everything_ is covered in snow.

A thin dusting across the width of the haven, a thick layer over the leaves and rocks littering the ground. From the way the moonlight is hitting the pond Ignis suspects it's frozen solid - Noct will be upset if none of the fish survived.

The fire before them is bright and burning, either freshly lit or at the very least well fed and perfectly maintained.

“Stopped snowing at least,” Gladio rumbles.

“Snowing?” Ignis questions. His head feels a little fuzzy, like he either slept too long or not long enough but Ignis can’t tell which one.

“It was snowing?” Ignis pulls a little further away and Gladio’s face _pinches_ briefly before his arm drops from around him, “How was it _snowing_?”

Gladio shrugs, “Magic.”

Ignis sighs and passes his eyes over Gladio’s face. He looks drawn, tired, dark bruises beneath his eyes betraying just how little sleep he’d gotten.

It still _seems_ dark, but sometimes it’s impossible to tell in places such as these, the canopy thick and cumbersome. Ignis has learnt not to trust his own sense of time until he’s stepped free of them all together.

“How are you feeling?” Gladio asks.

His hand comes up to Ignis’ face, palm pressing briefly against his forehead and then skimming across his cheek. Gladio catches his eye, gentle and undeniably _fond_. Ignis has to look away.

He can’t remember the last time the two of them were _alone_. Before the trip, he’s sure. Since that day they were open and honest and frank with each other about what they both want but know they cannot have.

“Where are the boys?” Ignis asks, realising they are not only without the tent but half their party.

“At the haven by the Vesperpool, they got there safe,” Gladio says, “Text me the second they were settled.”

Ignis nods, relieved, and the pad of Gladio’s thumb passes across his cheek and _ever so softly_ brushes the corner of his mouth.

Ignis pushes the blanket off his shoulders and stands.

“Iggy,” Gladio sighs.

“I’d like to investigate,” Ignis tells him, “I won’t go far.”

But Gladio is climbing to his feet too and as Ignis makes his way off the haven the Shield follows, allowing Ignis his space but clearly not wanting him to go off by himself lest they risk another daemon attack.

“Interesting,” Ignis murmurs, bending to scoop up a handful of the powdery snow. It’s deep, wetting the bottom of his trousers immediately and seeping into his shoes.

“It was a real blizzard at first, we’re lucky the haven is pretty sheltered,” Gladio says.

Ignis crushes the snow in his palm, realising that Gladio must have taken off his gloves at some point and trying to imagine the feel and the shape of the larger hand in his own.

“Iggy,” Gladio says and it's the same soft tone he’d used earlier - yesterday?

Ignis tenses his shoulders to stop himself from turning around and flinging himself into those strong arms.

“I don’t remember what happened,” Ignis admits, “I remember Noct’s magic…”

Gladio sighs.

“It hit the daemon’s magic and then maybe something to do with Prompto’s gun,” Gladio pauses and in his mind Ignis pictures him shrugging, “Force of it brought down a tree and buried us in here. Not sure about the blizzard, just an extended blizzaga or something, but it didn’t hurt at least.”

“For once,” Ignis says and Gladio huffs out a short laugh.

Ignis’ feet are cold, wet through his socks with the dampness creeping up his legs. They should go back and sit by the fire, shed their shoes and dry out their socks but he knows they’ll have to sit close - he _wants_ to sit close - and without the other two as a distraction he doesn’t know if he can put Gladio off.

Doesn’t know if he _wants_ to put Gladio off.

They’re waiting, but for _what_ ? It made sense when they were going to be back in Insomnia in a month. A month was no time at all to wait. It was just a _month_ of waiting so they could focus on the task at hand but it was never meant to last this long - they were never supposed to be waiting this long.

“I’ve never seen snow _like this_ ,” Gladio offers.

“Insomnia doesn’t get cold enough,” Ignis agrees, “It’s quite beautiful.”

It really _is_ beautiful.

There are icicles hanging from the trees that glitter softly in the moonlight and the snow laying on the ground is so _very_ bright. Part of Ignis wants to walk over the frozen lake but he can’t be sure if it’s thick enough to hold his weight.

“I always wanted to take you ice skating you know,” Gladio says.

“Really?”

“Well sure,” Gladio says easily, “I realised I loved you in the winter, would have been the perfect first date. Got you hot chocolate from the Solstice market afterwards, warmed up your cold feet by the big fire in the family room afterwards.”

Ignis gasps softly.

“Gladiolus.”

The snow and leaves behind Ignis crunch beneath Gladio’s heavy boots.

Through his jacket he feels a touch, a soft and tentative stroke down the length of spine.

“Taking me to the family home on the first date,” Ignis teases, “That’s very presumptuous of you.”

“Nah, I’ve just never been so sure of anything in my life than you.”

Ignis spins on the spot. There’s barely any space between them at all.

He could probably go up on his tiptoes and kiss him right now.

“Gladio,” he breathes.

“Give me one good reason why we’re still waiting,” Gladio demands, “Just one.”

Noctis, he thinks, the trip, their duty, this _never ending_ war.

But none of those are _good_ reasons. They might even be good reasons _not_ to wait.

Ignis shakes his head and Gladio’s hand is cupping his face _immediately_ . Gladio’s _still_ not wearing a shirt so when Ignis reaches out his palm presses right up against the skin of Gladio’s chest.

“Last chance,” Gladio warns but he’s grinning.

Ignis is smiling too when their mouths _finally_ meet.

It’s a long time coming, a lot of long glances and barely there touches accrued over years and years of friendship. Wistful glances across a pizza split four ways, words on the tips of tongues and fingertips just millimetres apart at the council’s table.

When they pull apart Gladio brushes his hand across Ignis’ jaw and he shivers.

Gladio smirks.

“Keep your ego in check, please,” Ignis chides, “I’m simply cold.”

-

Gladio leads them back to the haven without dropping Ignis’ hand - he never wants to drop it again.

They still have a lot to talk about - or maybe they don’t - but he can fix Ignis’ problem in the here and now.

Ignis is the one to summon their pyjamas to hand, just pants for Gladio but a full set for Ignis. _Adorably_ Ignis turns his back on Gladio as he changes even though he wouldn’t have bothered this time yesterday. When they’re both done Ignis shivers his way through laying out their clothes to dry while Gladio teases him and then settles way too far away on the other side of the blanket.

Gladio rolls his eyes and scoots right up into Ignis’ space. This time when Gladio pulls Ignis in to rest against his chest the adviser is awake and smiling. So it’s better, even though the fingers Ignis presses into his abs are frozen solid. Ignis pushes his bare toes closer towards the fire and flexes them. Gladio drapes the blanket around them, cocooning them fully in warmth. He kisses the side of Ignis’ head.

Gods, how long has he been waiting to do that.

“Better?” Gladio asks.

Ignis nods, “From here on out you can claim all my shivers as your own.”

-

Ignis wakes with the warmth of the dwindling fire at his front and Gladio at his back, arm heavy and comforting over the dip of his waist.

Ignis _wakes_ to an almighty grinding noise that rattles the very ground he rests on - ground completely free of snow and ice, as far as Ignis can see.

He sits up, looks up and through the canopy of trees spies a magitek engine.

 _Impossible_.

Ignis summons his daggers and Gladio grunts, waking up himself. It takes him four seconds to go from charmingly confused to _alert_.

Gladio’s on his feet but as Ignis turns to race off the haven Gladio tugs his wrist and drags him back. He points up and Ignis takes a second look.

He sighs in relief, the aircraft is _red_.

“Aranea,” they say together.

The grinding noise cuts out abruptly and after a blink of silence something _huge_ crashes to the ground.

“I think that’ll do it!” they hear Aranea shout.

“Iggy!” Prompto yells, “Gladio!”

The blond comes skidding into view, _beaming_ when he spots them on their feet.

“You guys are okay,” he says, rushing up the side of the haven. For a brief moment Ignis thinks Prompto might launch himself at them in a hug but he restrains himself.

“Perfectly adequate,” Ignis tells him, “Thank you for your concern.”

“I see you got help,” Gladio rumbles.

“I caught these two rumbling with a red giant,” Aranea tells them, coming in to view with Noctis at her side, “And without their minders to boot -”

“Hey!” Noct complains, quickly dancing out of his reach when she takes a playful swat at him. “

“Figured I better stick around and set things to rights.”

She stops a ways off from the haven and crosses her arms.

“Thank you,” Ignis tells her emphatically.

She shrugs, “You gonna stand there in your pjs all day or shall we get this show on the road.”

Gladio and Ignis rush back into their normal clothes, completely dry thanks to Ignis’ attention last night.

When everyone’s turned away Gladio sneaks a quick kiss onto his cheek.

Ignis could get used to this.

When they’re ready to leave the boys rush ahead, talking excitedly with Aranea and Ignis trusts her enough to let his guard down as he trudges along behind them.

He’s tired but happy.

 _Actually_ happy for the first time in a long time.

Something touches his hand and Ignis startles, glancing down in time to watch Gladio’s fingers interlace with his own.

“Ready to get out of here?” Gladio asks.

“More than,” Ignis says, “Though I can’t say I was ultimately disappointed by the diversion.”

**Author's Note:**

> On Twitter [@Ginger_El_](https://twitter.com/Ginger_El_)! 💛


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